


I'm Prego

by Banner4Hetalia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Prussia wants his Picklehaube, mystical vagina y'all, romano sucks as best man, wrote this with a margarita
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 20:12:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16332701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banner4Hetalia/pseuds/Banner4Hetalia
Summary: My apologies to anyone who is Catholic, and who speaks German or Italian, I used google translate and we all know how that isThis was written on National pasta day ya’ll I’m serious* (No, I’m not gonna tell Romano shit) this is what Germany said in German





	I'm Prego

I’m Prego!  
It was a normal day in the German household, Germany was training, Prussia was down in the basement, which held a sign on the door saying, “ONLY AWESOME PEOPLE ALLOWED!!” and in tiny print under that statement was, “a certain Canadian is allowed entry”. Surprisingly Italy was up and about, before noon, miracles can happen folks. Since today was National Pasta day, Italy decided he would, of course, make his famous pasta. He did all the preparations, and it was going gloriously. Unfortunately, he forgot one very important thing while making pasta.  
Germany had just gotten done with his 6-hour training, upon coming into his house, he saw a note on the counter, from Italy, explaining that they had run out of pasta sauce and he had to run to the store for tomatoes.  
Germany just shrugged it off, Italy was Italy. He went over to the cabinet to get his own breakfast started, looked into the fridge and discovered there was no milk. It was fine he figured, Italy was already there, he’d just call and tell him to buy some.

~at the store~  
Italy had been wondering for past couple of minutes looking at the store-bought sauce, glaring at them as if it was their fault that there were no more tomatoes. He had finally decided to get prego, because that was all that was left when his phone started ringing out’ German Sparkle Party’. He quickly answered because people were giving him looks.  
Hal- ,ve’re o- of -ilk, cou- jou -ck up som-?  
Italy had trouble hearing Germany, he could barely pick up what the burly German man has spoken, he heard something about milk?

~back at home ~  
Did-a yo- -ay some—ing ----- milk?  
Germany could only slightly hear his boyfriend, but then a certain phrase came out that made German quite freaked out.  
Germany we, -- ------ st--- I am --- ----- prego!  
(What Italy actually said boys and girls was, ‘Germany we-a ran out of tomatoes, I-a am very upset, I’ll-a just get-a prego’)  
Unfortunately for this strong nation, all he really could focus on was ‘prego’, which cause said German to break his phone cutting off the conversation completely.  
“H-he’s prego, pregnant?!?!?!” Germany was quite alarmed by this. How was this even possible?!?!  
(A/N, if you believe in the power of mpreg folks, mystic vagina y’all)  
Gilbert who had somehow come out of hiding at the word, ‘pregnant’ swaggered into the room. “It finally happened!! I’m gonna be an Onkel!!! Do you vant to pass out cigars now?” Prussia was wiping away tears of awesome,” I though it vould be me sowing mein seeds of awesome into mein birdie, but I guess I’ll have to vait.”  
While Prussia looked happier then the cat who got the canary, Germany’s brain had promptly stopped working, he looked into the distance having the thousand-yard stare.  
Prussia jumped over the couch to sit beside his brother,” So Vest, you know vhat you have to do right? You have to make an honest nation out of Italy.” He stared at the infamous tomato ring, which was a failed valentine’s day proposal that Italy wasn’t ready for yet, which was around Germany’s neck alongside his dog tags, him having never taken it off, waiting for the right moment again.  
Germany looked down at the ring and knew what had to do, “Call a priest East, ve have a wedding to plan!” Gilbert looked thoughtful for a minute, “Don’t ve have to let Romano know?”  
“Scheibe, nein, ich sage nicht Romano Scheibe!”*  
Prussia looked surprised,”You know zhat’s his only family, plus you’re getting married in a Catholic church, zhey are Italians, zhey know everything about the Catholic church!!”  
Germany would not budge on this matter, yes Romano was Italy’s only real family left, but he would not have that arseloch ruin the happiest day of his life.  
“We’ll send him a postcard, any vay I don’t know how to deal vith a baby!” Germany again looked terrified at the thought.  
“Oh, don’t vorry Vest, the awesome me has had many experiences dealing vith this.”  
“Jou find me vhen I vas twelve.”  
“Same thing, zhey poop, zhey eat, don’t shake them hard, try to keep zhem alive und boom healthy kid!”  
Germany narrowed his eyes at his brother, “Zhat’s it I’m calling Austria.”  
“Vait don’t!”

~~time skip~~  
Italy had finally come back from the store groceries in hand, he just wanted to make his pasta and take his third siesta and celebrate national pasta day the way it was meant to be celebrated.  
Unfortunately, relaxing was not going to happen, he pulled up the house, aka he skidded the car into the driveway, and discovered it was decorated with flowers and ribbons. He walked into the house looking for Germany, only to look into the backyard and not only more ribbons and flowers, but an arch and Germany…. in a tuxedo, with a priest beside him.  
He had about five seconds to himself before Gilbert came screeching into the kitchen, also wearing a tuxedo. He grabbed the groceries out of Italy’s hands and set them down.  
“Jou shouldn’t be doing heavy lifting in your condition!” Gilbert pulled a veil attached to a headband and placed it on Italy’s head, being careful of the curl.  
“Zhere ve go, all ready for jour vedding!”  
“My-a what!!” Italy was confused, what in Grandpa Rome’s name happened here?!  
Prussia had begun pulling Italy outside into the backyard and put him beside his brother,” Let’s begin, I vant this kid to be legal!”  
The preacher began speaking in Italian, which made poor Italy even more confused since he was saying stuff about babies and marriage in his own language. Italy looked over and saw Germany nervous as hell while this whole thing was taking place, he reached over and placed a hand on his boyfriends to try and reassure him that it was okay, even if Italy didn’t understand what the hell was going on himself.  
“Germany, why-a are we getting married? I’m not really opposed or-a anything but-a why?”  
“Ve have to do zhis for our family.”  
“Awww thats-a so sweet, okay lets-a do this!”  
“ If there is here who objects to this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace.”  
Germany looked around and noticed that Romano had not shown up, maybe he was letting him have this, maybe he didn’t really cared who his brother married, just as he thought he was safe, he heard the sound of a helicopter and looked up.  
There was Romano climbing down a rope out of the helicopter. “Fuck-a you potato bastard if you-a think I’m gonna let-a you marry mio fratello, then you have too many potatos up you-a damn ass!!!!” Romano was livid, as usual. “My Catholic senses were-a tingling, no-a way in-a hell is this-a going to happen!!!”  
“Vait Vest I can save zhis vedding!! I vill get mein Pickelhaube!!!” Prussia had ran inside to grab his spiked helmet, cause he was convinced one day he would need it again.  
Germany stared Romano down, daring him to stop this wedding.” Jou von’t stop zhis, ve vill be a family together, me, Feliciano und the baby!!”  
“CHE CAZZO!!! UN BAMBINO!!!” If you thought Romano was pissed earlier, think again, his face looked just like a tomato at this point.  
At this point all hell broke loose.  
Romano had pulled out two guns at this point and took aim at Germany, who took on a role as a shield for poor Italy who mumbling about his wedding being ruined.  
The priest had long since taken leave, not even getting his money, after seeing Romano appear.  
Feliciano had long since been done with their shit, he got in between his big brother and ‘fiance’. “I-a don’t why you are-a on this joyous day!! Big Brother, your-a being a dick again!!”  
“I’m-a not letting you marry that-a potato bastard, it’s enough that he-a got you pregnant!!”  
“How-a many times do I-a have to say it!!! Im-a not a pregnant!! I’m-a not a girl!! Guys don’t get-a pregnant!!”  
Gilbert had once again appeared at the word pregnant, wearing his Picklehaube,” Zhen explain how America und mein Birdie came to be?”  
“Englands magic, and-a big brother France likes to-a wear dresses.”  
Gilbert just shrugged,” Vorks for me.”  
Germany looked at Italy,”But jou said jou vere pregnant on the phone.”  
“No, I-a said I was-a getting prego, the sauce, not that I-a was prego!”  
Germany almost looked sad at the thought of Italy not bearing his offspring, even though men couldn’t get pregnant, besides France and little bit of Iggy’s magic.  
Romano was now holding and laughing at poor Germany, “Stupid potato bastard, you-a thought mio fratello was-a pregnant!!” Romano was now leaving, having successfully stopped the wedding.  
Prussia was now also laughing at the makeshift buffet table, which consisted of raw potatoes, mashed potatoes, wurst, and a beer fountain.  
Italy approached his boyfriend trying to cheer him up,” It’s-a okay Germany, you stilled tried your hardest, and-a thank you for doing this. Also, Germany?”  
“Vhat Italy?”  
“If you-a really to a start a family, I-a would be willing to-a talk to England for us.” Italy smiled his usual smile and skipped off to the buffet to join Prussia.  
Germany watched his boyfriend skip over to his brother, thinking maybe, just maybe, one day he would have his family.

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies to anyone who is Catholic, and who speaks German or Italian, I used google translate and we all know how that is  
> This was written on National pasta day ya’ll I’m serious  
> * (No, I’m not gonna tell Romano shit) this is what Germany said in German


End file.
